


The Hitchhiker

by YouMayKnowMeAsAngel



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, But like not in a sad way, Character Turned Into a Ghost, I really don't know what this is, M/M, Matt has a potty mouth, everything's cool, in a sort of funny way, just read it, they're both dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouMayKnowMeAsAngel/pseuds/YouMayKnowMeAsAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt's night isn't going well, and then he almost kills a dude.</p><p>Wait, no.</p><p>Matt's night isn't gong well, and then he almost runs over a really cute guy with a really crappy truck, and then the guy turns out to be a ghost. Go figure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hitchhiker

**Author's Note:**

> I know what you're thinking. Why am I writing this when I have a million other projects to work on? Well I'm a fucktard, that's why. waitineedaname on tumblr gave me this idea, so props to her.
> 
> MUST READ! This story takes place in a universe where there are magical creatures living alongside humans, like witches and wizards and werewolves and mermaids and stuff. This is all seen as somewhat normal.

The world was wet and Matt hated everything.

It was 5:30 in the morning, and he was driving a beat up, rusty Ford pickup truck through a downpour of rain in the middle of a forest. The old truck was running on sheer stubborn willpower, with one headlight flickering and at least two wobbly wheels. The pathetic scrap of metal used to belong to Matt's grandfather, or at least he thought it did. For all he knew it had been created by Satan himself so that Matt could live out his days behind the wheel of his very own personal hell. He hated that fucking truck, just like how he hated his fucking brother at the moment.

Allen was the reason Matt was out in the rain and hating life. They'd run out of milk, which wouldn't have been that big of an issue if his brother wasn't a temperamental werecat who had to have milk every six hours, or else he would shred the living room curtains.

 _"_ _Well Matt, if I had a proper scratching post, which I_ don't, _I wouldn't touch your precious curtains."_

The kid could be such a shit. Allen was lucky that Matt was such a helpful guy, so willing to drop everything at a moment's notice so that his fucking brother could get his fucking milk—

His thoughts were interrupted by the squeal of wheels on wet pavement. It took Matt a moment to realize that  _his_ truck's wheels were the ones squealing, and that he was currently swerving and spinning all over a very wet road. He was too shocked to yell, and too paralyzed to do anything but keep his foot on the brake until the truck stopped moving. Just like anything else it had been through in its life, the old red Ford survived the sudden spin trip, and groaned to a halt at the side of the road.

Matt was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. From what he could remember, a person had walked out of the woods and into the direct path of the truck. Matt's reflexes had responded before his brain could, and he'd jerked the steering wheel over to one side in order to avoid what was sure to have been a horrible mess of horror.

Matt looked over his shoulder and through the rain. A lone figure stood in the middle of the road, facing his truck. He could tell it was a boy, and he could tell the boy was scared. In the face of someone else's fear, Matt's disappeared. He let out a long sigh and unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to once again become a helpful fucking citizen. Curse him and his kind nature.

He unbuttoned his top flannel layer and held it over his head as he stepped out into the rain. His hair was a bitch to take care of when it got wet, and he didn't want to deal with that on top of everything else that had happened to him. Matt hurried his way over to where the boy stood, his boots splashing on the wet road.

The boy's eyes widened as Matt drew closer. He wasn't as young as Matt had originally thought, probably a college student who'd gotten lost and stuck in the rain on a backpacking trip. He was a small thing, a couple of heads below Matt—although to be fair Matt towered over most people—and pretty skinny. He was dressed for travel in many layers and had a huge backpack, although he wasn't wearing a hooded jacket. Drenched blonde hair was plastered to the sides of the kid's face, and violet eyes blinked up at Matt from behind wet glasses.

"Are you ok?!" Matt shouted over the roar of the rain, which seemed to be coming down harder out of pure spite.

The kid stared at him for a moment before jerkily nodding his head once.

Matt frowned and looked behind the backpacker and into the forest. He couldn't see a clear path, which made no sense because the kid had to have come from  _somewhere_. He was just about to ask when thunder rolled through the sky, causing both of them to jump and look up in alarm. Matt swore under his breath and glanced back at his truck. They needed to get out the rain before one of them got hit by lightning, which would be the fucking highlight of his entire miserable night.

"C'mon!" Matt shouted at the kid before running back to the Ford. When he didn't hear anything behind him, he turned to find the kid still standing in the middle of the road. "What are you doing?! There's a thunderstorm!" He called out. The boy frowned then looked back up at the sky as if he was actually considering taking the risk of being hit by lightning rather than getting in Matt's truck. "Let's _go!"_ Matt hollered as more thunder boomed above.

The boy jumped, gave Matt a startled look, then started gunning for the truck. The two ran together through the storm, moving fast out of the sheer fear that something would happen before they made it to safety. Fortunately, they both managed to get inside the truck just as the first bit of lightning lit up the sky. The two sat in their respective seats for a moment, panting and glancing at the angry storm that was raging around the vehicle. After a few beats of heavy breathing, Mathieu decided he might as well introduce himself to the kid.

"I guess I should say I'm sorry for almost running you over. I'm Mathieu, by the way." He held out his hand to the boy, who looked at it as though it might be poisonous. Matt let his hand hang in midair for a moment longer, before slowly retracting it. Right before it was back over the center console, the kid whipped out a hand to shake Matt's, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Sorry," he whispered in an extremely soft voice, "I haven't really been around other people in a while."

Matt smiled and shrugged. "Don't worry 'bout it, introductions are overrated anyways."

The kid gave him a quick, awkward smile, then looked back out his window. Matt watched as the kid jumped and turned back to face him. "My name's Mathew," he said too quickly, obviously embarrassed that he had forgotten to say his name.

Mathieu raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well then, you better call me Matt so that we don't get confused," he joked. He got another tiny smile for his efforts, but this one seemed genuine. A sudden crash of lightning caused Matt and Mathew to jump in their seats.

Mathew leaned forward to give the sky a nervous look. "Um, w-what are the chances of us getting struck by lighting?" He asked, stuttering a bit.

He kinda looked like he was about to cry, so Matt was quick to answer. "Oh, hardly any chance at all. Like, zero chance." Mathew gave him a disbelieving look, so Matt went on. "We're not grounded, see? The truck has rubber tires. No lightning is going to harm us." When Mathew still looked unsure, Matt decided to try something a bit risky. He slowly reached over and gripped the kid's shoulder, giving him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Nothing is going to get us. I promise."

It took a second, but some of the Mathew's nervousness seemed to disappear. He nodded at Matt, looking calmer than he was before. Matt, realizing that he still had a hand on Mathew's shoulder, cleared his throat and quickly removed it. "Uh," he began, suddenly flustered. "Do you need a ride? I'm heading into the town that's just outside this forest."

Mathew winced and pulled away from Matt to give the road ahead of them a look that could only be described as wary.

Matt held up his hands. "I'm not a serial killer or anything. If you don't want me to drive you, I won't make you come with me, but that storm out there doesn't look very friendly."

As if on cue, another roll of thunder grumbled through the sky, and the wind outside the truck rose to scary levels. Mathew visibly swallowed. "I…I guess I'll need a ride then," he said hesitantly, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else in the world but in that truck. (And really, Matt couldn't blame him. His truck fucking  _sucked._ )

Matt decided to listen to the agreement rather than the unsure tone, and started up the ignition. Well, he tried to. Starting his truck was always an…adventure. After some sweating, twisting, and a fair amount of under-breath swearing, the engine puttered to life. Matt gave his passenger a rather manic grin. "All ready to go!"

Mathew's wide eyes stared back at him. "Um, ok."

The truck pulled away from the side of the road and started it's clunky way towards the town where Matt was planning on picking up some milk. As long as he was there, he might as well buy some tuna. They were running low, and Allen could be a real bitch when he didn't have his tuna, just like he could be a real bitch when he didn't have his milk. Matt hoped he wouldn't find him perched on top of the fridge when he got home. He still didn't know how Allen managed to get up there without using his claws.

Mathew was fidgeting in his seat. He kept shifting from side to side and glancing down at his hands in his lap. At first Matt figured it was just because the kid didn't like riding in cars, which would certainly explain why he was backpacking through the forest at ungodly hours in the morning, but there seemed to be more to it than that. Mathew was getting more nervous the further they traveled down the road, and it got to the point where Matt couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Hey," he said, grabbing Mathew's attention with a poke of the shoulder, "you alright? You're fidgeting a lot."

Mathew blinked at him, then tried for a laugh, which came out sort of rushed and breathy. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just…the storm. You know."

Matt glanced over at Mathew to give him what Allen had officially dubbed the Not Buying Your Shit look. The look consisted of pursed lips, a raised eyebrow, and eyes that traveled up and down judgmentally. It worked well for Matt in most situations, and it earned him a blush from Mathew. The kid quickly looked away, and Matt decided to drop it. It was none of his business, and if the guy really didn't want to talk about it, then he shouldn't have to. Mathew stopped fidgeting, but Matt could practically smell his nerves. That's what prompted him to start talking.

"I wouldn't usually be driving this early, I don't do well with mornings. But, my brother's a werecat and we ran out of milk, so—"

"Your brother's a werecat?" Mathew interrupted, all of his attention suddenly on Matt.

Matt gave him a smile. "Yeah, but he's not like the radical ones you see on TV, you know, the guys that go off into the woods to build tribes and hunt together and run around naked. He's more of a loner, but he lives with me because he enjoys making my life miserable." When Mathew chuckled at that, Matt took his eyes of the road just in time to see the kid's eyes crinkle in amusement. "You have any siblings?" He asked, because that smile looked a little knowing.

Mathew froze up instantly, and he hesitated before answering. "Yes, I have a younger brother…he's a werewolf."

And wasn't  _that_ interesting. "Really? No way! Is he radical?" Mathieu had heard stories about packs and constant traveling.

Mathew shook his head. "No. He lives in an apartment in New York. He shares it with a wizard."

Matt let out a low whistle. "Wow. We both have non-radical were-brothers. What are the odds, huh?"

Mathew shrugged and curled into his seat, effectively shutting himself out of the conversation. Matt gave him a furtive glance from the corner of his eye. If the kid wanted to be left alone, fine. He could deal with that. Nothing wrong with a little bit of silence, if the situation called for it. Mathieu hummed a tune under his breath and concentrated on driving through the storm. The old red truck traveled down the road, the world screaming up a fit around it and its passengers.

:

:

:

Around twenty minutes later, right before the woods opened up to the entrance of the town, a small sound drew Mathieu's attention away from the rode. It was his passenger, who was sound asleep. The kid had dried up a little bit, and the gold tint of his hair was just starting to show under the water that had drenched it. His face was smooshed up against the passenger window, and his glasses lay askew across his face. The strange sound had come from his open, slightly drooly mouth, and while Matt was looking another sound came out, small and squeaky.

Matt chuckled, and turned away. He had to admit the kid was adorable, in a shy, sort of pathetic kind of way.

He waited until he had pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store before waking Mathew up. He shook his shoulder a few times while murmuring, "Hey, we're here."

Mathew jerked awake with a small snort, his eyes wide. He looked around himself frantically until his eyes landed on Matt. He visibly relaxed a bit, as if he remembered where he was. "Uh," he said, his voice groggy with sleep.

Matt had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. The kid's hair was sticking up on the side which he had been sleeping on, making him sort of look like a really confused and adorable blonde ostrich. "We're at the town's grocery store, but there's a bus station right around the corner," he said slowly, not wanting to confuse Mathew even more. "The thunder and lighting stopped a little bit ago, but it's still raining pretty hard. I could drive you there if you want, after I pick up some milk."

Mathew blinked at him, then slowly turned his head down towards his lap. He held his hands in front of his face and stared at them with unblinking eyes. "How long was I asleep?" He asked, his voice barely audible.

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Uh, only about twenty minutes I think. Maybe thirty." He didn't ask why, although he was pretty curious. Something was wrong.

The hitchhiker kept staring at his hands. He whispered something under his breath that sounded a lot like, "I'm still visible." Then, shouting at the top of his lungs, "I'm still visible!" He let out a whoop and threw his hands in the air, almost hitting the roof of the truck.

Matt jerked back in surprise. He watched in stunned silence as Mathew started to laugh, his face crinkling up with glee. The kid laughed with his whole body, clutching at his heaving chest with his hands and throwing his head back with loud guffaws. It was a stark contrast from the timid boy who'd almost been mowed down by a truck, and Matt was memorized. So much for cute, Mathew was  _beautiful_ when he smiled.

The laughter slowly began to die down until Mathew was chuckling, wiping tears away from his eyes. Matt cleared his throat, deciding it was about time he made himself known again. Mathew froze mid tear wipe, and slowly turned around. Matt gave him a small, wary smile.

"I'm still visible," Mathew said.

Matt cleared his throat again. "Uh, yes, I got that."

" _Why_ am I still visible?" Mathew asked with a surprisingly large amount of demanding.

"I…I don't know," Matt said hesitantly. "S-should you be?"

A pause.

"No," Mathew drew out the word, "but, yes."

"Uh."

"I'm a ghost."

"Uh."

"Who disappears."

"Uh."

"Are you ok?"

"Just…just give me a moment."

Matt rubbed at his face and screwed his eyes shut. He wasn't really sure what he should be thinking or feeling, but he did know that the chances of him picking up a ghost on a forest road were next to nothing, not to mention the fact that Mathew was apparently a corporal ghost. Spirits were rare, and most of them were simply whisps of colorful smoke. Ghosts, or the spirits of dead humans, were only one in one thousand, and only one in fifty ghosts were corporal.

"What class are you?" Matt managed, but he didn't look over. He was still taking it all in.

Mathew hesitated a long time before answering, and when he did, his voice was as soft as it was before all the cheering. "I'm a class 8."

"Class 8?" Matt whirled his head around and stared wide eyed at Mathew, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. "But you're, I mean, you look—"

"Real?" Mathew muttered, a strange look in his eye. His shoulders sagged.

Matt, realizing that he was being an idiot, tried to backtrack. "No! I was going to say, uh,  _cute!_ Yeah, I've never heard of a ghost that was as cute as you!"

Mathew's ears turned a bit red, but other than that his expression didn't change. "Don't worry, I'll get out of your hair—"

"No!" Matt exclaimed, causing Mathew to freeze mid-sentence. "Don't do that! I…I don't think that….well  _shit_." Matt rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small chuckle. "I'm being a real jerk, aren't I?"

Mathew didn't say anything.

Matt took a deep breath. "Look, this is the first time I've been around a ghost, and you gotta understand that I haven't really heard of one that looks as…solid as you look."

Mathew's eyes flicker down. "Yes, well, the media isn't exactly fond of us."

"The media isn't fond of anything that's different," Matt said fiercely, thinking back to the day's when his little brother was growing up and was terrified of the stories he heard on the news, the negative approach to all things supernatural. Allen had been afraid he'd end up like one of the monsters that everyone seemed to hate.

Nowadays, things were a bit different. People were more open-minded about stuff. They'd grown used to it overtime. But, ghosts? Alive dead people? That's not really something that someone gets used to. Still, there was really no excuse for the media's poor portrayal of the paranormal community, not matter how small they were.

"I'm not weirded out, ok?" Matt tried to explain himself. "I've just been having a really weird night. It's been one thing on top of the other from the milk to the rain to this stupid truck, and then I find out I have a ghost in my car who likes to shriek about how visible he is for no apparent reason." He gave a breathy chuckle. "But just to let you know, I meant what I said about you being cute."

Mathew cleared his throat. "Uh…thank you," he murmured. "And, I'm sorry, about all the yelling, it's just…"

And Mathew proceeded to tell Matt a bit of his life story. Mathew had died when he was 21 years old. He was hit by an eight wheeler while crossing the street and immediately died on impact. He hadn't felt any pain, but he couldn't really remember what happened afterwards. He woke up in the hospital standing next to his body, but he didn't look or feel like a ghost. He went home to live with his brother, and they both decided it was better for him not to register as a ghost if he didn't feel like ne. Two years went by, and Mathew continued to age and grow and change like a normal human being. Then one day around Christmas, his brother Alfred had gotten really drunk and dared him to hitchhike over to Mathew's boyfriend's house. (And Matt certainly did not get stuck on the word boyfriend. Nope. Did not notice that at all.) Mathew, not being very sober himself, took the dare. The first car picked him up, and they made it about three miles before Mathew vanished.

Apparently, Mathew was something called a traveling spirit. Several factors of his death contributed to his, such as dying young, dying while traveling, and being hit by a car. He only disappeared while hitchhiking or receiving rides from people he didn't know too well. He was a class 8 spirit because while he was visible most of the time, he had the ability to vanish completely.

"But, if you only vanish when you hitchhike and stuff, why do you do it?" Matt asked, a bit confused.

Mathew sighed and gave Matt a pointed look. "Sometimes, like today, I don't have a choice. Trust me, I don't make a habit of disappearing in people's cars."

Matt blinked in surprise at the sarcasm, another interesting thing he wouldn't have assumed about Mathew. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

Mathew winced. "No, I'm sorry. God, this whole night has just been…horrible." He paused, then slowly looked up at Matt. "I'm sort of glad I met you though."

And oh boy did that shut Matt up right away. He floundered for a moment, his hands immediately going to the steering wheel to grip it tightly. "Uh, why didn't you disappear this time?" Matt managed, changing the subject like a pro.

Mathew shrugged. "'Dunno. I mean, I don't know you, right?"

Matt nodded. He would definitely remember if he had met Mathew before.

Perhaps this could mean something. Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason Mathew didn't disappear this time, and if that were true, then maybe that reason had something to do with Matt being there. Of course, Matt could just be hopefully overthinking things, and he had no real proof that Mathew could actually disappear, but he had a hunch that the universe was trying to tell him something. Sort of a wink and a nudge, like,  _Hey! You two should stick together!_

"Why were you backpacking out there in the first place?" Matt asked.

Mathew smiled sheepishly. "I hadn't meant to. I sort of got lost while walking through the forest."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "And you were walking through a forest in the middle of the night because…?"

"I like the dark," Mathew said honestly, as if that was a good enough reason.

Matt stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright."

Another long silence. At this point, everything inside Matt's head was screaming at him to ask if Mathew's boyfriend was still, you know, a thing.

"Are you gay?"

Matt froze. Mathew looked stricken, as if he hadn't planned on saying that outloud. His hands were slapped over his mouth and his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Matt watched as color began to flood Mathew's ears, turning them bright red.

"Uh…"

"Oh my God I'm so sorry, I was just—I don't—I'm sorry, God,  _sorry!_ That was so stupid of me why did I…" Mathew was a stuttering mess. He floundered around in his seat, waving his hands in front of him and then putting them back over his mouth as if he could stop the embarrassed gibberish.

So Matt did something he hadn't done in a long time. He tilted back his head and let out a shout of laughter. He whooped and bellowed, clutching at his seatbelt. He laughed so hard he could barely breath, his breaths coming in short gasps when he could manage it. Matt laughed harder than he'd laughed in ages, because the mere idea of him being anything but gay was the funniest shit he had ever heard.

After what seemed like forever but was probably only around 30 seconds, Matt relaxed back in his seat and wiped at his eyes, his laughs calming to chuckles. "I do believe that's the first time anyone has ever asked me that," he said with a wide grin, but one look at Mathew wiped it off his face.

The kid looked absolutely mortified. He wouldn't meet Matt's eyes, and his shoulders were hunched up and tense around his neck. "I'm so sorry, I didn't meant to insult you or—" he began.

"Insult me?" Matt cut him off. "What do you mean by that?"

Mathew obviously didn't want to explain, but he did anyways. "Well, you're obviously straight so it was stupid of me to—"

" _What?_ "

"I said it was stupid of me to—"

"No no no, you think I'm straight?" Matt had never been so confused in his life. "What part of me looks straight?!"

Mathew gave him a surprisingly sarcastic look. "Gee, I dunno, it can't possible be the pick-up truck, or the way you talk, or the whole lumberjack look…"

Matt glanced down at himself. He was wearing a soaked red flannel shirt and a pair of old, faded jeans. Huh. So he did sort of look like a lumberjack, but straight? Really? "What's the matter with the way I talk?" He asked.

"Well, you, ah…" Mathew cleared his throat and looked away. "You have a really deep voice."

Matt hid his smile. "You do realize that doesn't make me heterosexual, right?"

"Well, no, but—"

"And I'm implying rather heavily that I am, in fact, gay."

Mathew blinked. "Huh?"

"I'm gay."

"You're gay?"

"Extremely. Why is this so hard for you to understand?"

Mathew winced. "I don't know! I just, well…"

Matt observed the kid. The poor guy hadn't had the easiest of nights, and Matt wasn't making things any better. He took a deep breath and stretched out his hand. "Let's…just start over. Hello, I'm Matt, and I'm gay."

Once again, his hand hovered over the center console, just waiting. Mathew stared at it, and his gaze slowly traveled to Matt's face. He bit his lip, but took the hand. "Hi. I'm Mathew, and I'm also gay. And a ghost."

Matt smiled and shook his hand firmly. "Well. That's not something you hear everyday."

"Tell me about it."

They shared a laugh. Matt glanced out the window and up at the sky. "Looks like it's starting to clear up." He looked back at Mathew. "You know, if you're visible now, maybe it's a sign."

Mathew raised his eyebrows. "A sign?"

Matt shrugged and tried to look casual. "Yeah, I mean, maybe we should stick together, you know, just to test it out." He paused. "You could, uh, come back to my place? Meet that brother I was complaining about?"

Mathew stared at him, a slow smile beginning to appear on his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

Matt smiled back, and turned on the ignition. He wasn't really surprised that it started on the first try this time, though he wasn't entirely sure why he wasn't surprised. As he pulled out of the parking lot of the grocery store, he remembered that he hadn't gotten his brother's milk. Oh well. Matt was bringing home something much better.


End file.
